


until the storm passes

by crashing_into_the_sun



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Normal AU, tw: abuse mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crashing_into_the_sun/pseuds/crashing_into_the_sun
Summary: Sometimes it hurts to lose even the bad things. The things you left behind on purpose. Sometimes they're a part of you.





	until the storm passes

It’s been nearly a month since they left when Baz catches him looking at it. Simon is alone in the kitchen with the light turned off, seated by a window where the twilight casts a blue glow on his skin. His face a mask of sorrow, mouth wide in a silent sob, fingers tracing the place where it sits, barely even sore anymore.

 

It’s the last bruise.

Just a bit of yellow on his upper thigh. The last relic Simon carries from the life he’s left behind. The life they ran away from. He’s cast away that version of himself as much as possible, but maybe he’s not ready for it all to disappear yet. He knows he has no choice. This last bruise, the last mark his father will ever leave on him, is vanishing both too quickly and not quickly enough.

Baz enters the room with soft footsteps. The pain on Simon’s face is too raw, as though Baz shouldn’t be seeing it, yet he can’t look away. It’s like a car crash— gruesome but impossible to tear your eyes away from. He’s afraid to speak, afraid he’ll spook Simon, who looks as wounded as he’s ever been. Sitting here in the kitchen chair.

“He’s almost gone.” It’s Simon who breaks the silence. It isn’t a good or a bad thing, the way he says it. Just a fact.

“He’s been gone for a while,” Baz replies. “You’ll always be safe here. He can’t get to you here.”

“I know.”

They’re quiet for a while. Baz lets Simon wallow in the quiet. Simon needs quiet, Baz knows, to sort through his feelings. To form thoughts. That’s okay.

“I still love him. I know it sounds stupid.” Simon’s voice breaks on the third word and if Baz wasn’t trying to be strong he’d start crying right there, because it’s the saddest thing he’s ever seen. A boy like Simon should never, he thinks, look so shattered. Simon deserves to exude sunshine. Simon deserves the stars in his eyes.

“He was your father. That’s not stupid at all.” Baz takes a tentative few steps toward Simon, who doesn’t shrink away like sometimes. When Simon gets like this he’s tricky. He wants Baz but sometimes he doesn’t want to be touched. That’s okay, too. “Do you need anything?” Baz’s hand overs over Simon’s shoulder, quivering a bit.

Simon shakes his head, then leans into Baz’s hand. His curls are springy and soft as Baz strokes his hair. “It’s alright, love,” Baz whispers.

“It isn’t,” Simon replies, fingers brushing once more against the bruise. “It never will be.”

Silence again. When Baz stole Simon off and brought him here to Cali, he hadn’t been expecting all the dark and quiet. All the could-be beach days spent waiting outside a dark bedroom while Simon huddled under the covers. Simon has thrived here but part of him is trying to come back to life, and it’s a long journey. Baz knows.

Without a warning, Simon stands up. He faces away from Baz for a second, breathing. Just breathing. “When all else fails,” Baz has told him in the past, “just breathe.” Then he turns abruptly and throws himself into Baz’s arms. He’s not sobbing but there are tears on his flushed cheeks. Bazs arms fit around Simon’s waist like a glove and he holds him there, holds him while the storm inside Simon rumbles and rumbles and then passes, and he keeps holding him. And that’s all Simon needs. And that’s okay.


End file.
